an oldie but a goodie

this weather (from hell), my (cabin) feverish children and my feeble attempts at "maybe" "possibly" finding "new employment" are stifling any and all of my creative process... so, i looked back to see what i was doing when the paloma was the same age as the porkchop (not much, which doesn't bode well for me for the next few months) and then, what i was thinking about this time last year... and found this oldie but goodie

(btw: k'zilla=paloma and b'zilla=porkchop):

metrodad just posted to ricedaddies about this nyt article called "tickled red to be elmo in a rainbow world". personally, i think this rove mcmanus interview is so much better... ("elmo LOVES wasabi! wasabi is a sometimes food!")



btw - for those of you in chicago, on friday's oprah (channel 7, 9 a.m.), they're re-airing the show where kevin is "revealed".

so, it appears that both the nyt and metrodad are really excited that elmo's muppeteer is black.

which reminded me of something that happened to me a few years ago, a friend of mine recounted a backstage visit to sesame street where a friend of hers was a "muppeteer". she giddily and gushingly (i mean like the blushing school girl, with the timebomb secret, straddling the cafeteria table bench) told me that the elmo muppeteer was "a really tall, african american man, named kevin".

the first thing i thought was "can you hook me up and get ME backstage at sesame street!?" and the second thing i thought was, "why is it a secret or a surprise or does it even matter to you that elmo's muppeteer is black?" it didn't really surprise me, just look at the cast of sesame street - it's probably the most diverse cast on tv and has been consistently so since it's debut in the 70s right?

admittedly, kevin clash seems to have breached the "caucasian muppeteer glass ceiling". but, i don't assume automatically that muppets are handled/voiced by white people. just like i don't assume that all the boy muppets are handled/voiced by males. and does the fact that they're white make the body of work of jim henson (kermit, ernie), frank oz (bert, grover) or caroll spinney (big bird, oscar) less impressive, less inspiring, less educational? do they lose their sesame street cred because of it?

as a child, i didn't care that all those characters were dreamed up and brought to life by white people (not that i knew). all i cared about was how alive the muppets were - they were funny, grouchy, loving, sympathetic, hungry, crazy, falliable, cynical, optimistic. they were just plain weird inside and out and yet wholly and unconditionally loved by millions. and who doesn't want to be loved unconditionally (by milllions) despite one's idiosyncrasies?

lately, it seems that parents are too worried about television not doing a good enough job at educating and well... parenting. i just don't think it's sesame street's job to educate children about racism, or HIV, or 9/11, death, love, pregnancy, obesity and divorce. but, they've taken these issues on to the ranting and raving of parents all over the globe. i always wonder if they take on these issues because they're told to or because they feel it's their duty. if it's the latter, do the producers of sesame street really think parents are doing such a bad job that they need to supplement?

in the 70s, sesame street did a great job teaching me the alphabet, numbers, opposites, rhyming and colors. they did a good job of making learning fun, encouraging me, as a child, to explore the world and making sure that the world always seemed big and full of things to experience with something new to teach me everyday. they still do, but for some reason, they go even further and sometimes they get schmacked for it - cookies are now a "sometime food" for cookie monster, zoe was given a zoemobile and a tutu instead of a doll, and remember when snuffy was big bird's "invisible" friend? and now, it's abby cadabby being too pink, too girly. (hello!? there are what five or six girl muppets and what a GAZILLION boy muppets. looks to me like sesame street is a tad testosterone heavy. how did that get past us feminists?)

i just feel that as a parent it's my job to pick up where sesame street should be leaving off. and depending on the subject matter, i'd rather that my child learn about these things from me anyway. i can appreciate that sesame street and other "educational" programs try to help me out. but, i worry that some issues are too complex/controversial for them to handle in 5 or 10 minute chunks - they may even be forced to sit on the fence - presenting some issues too simply/too detailed for some or not simple enough/too detailed for others. a parent knows their child better than anyone else (well, i hope they do anyway) and knows how to best educate their child - what tools/examples to use, when the child is ready to grasp a concept, when to table the discussion for another time, what language to use, etc, etc....

getting back to metrodad's post he says that he'll raise his daughter in a multi-cultural and multi-racial environment to teach her lessons about racism and racial stereotypes. i want to believe that that will help. i really do. i think the same thing about k'zilla and b'zilla with regards to our (not so diverse) chicago neighborhood (such as it is).

strangely enough, this makes me wonder about iceland's mostly blond, blue-eyed, extremely homogeneous population. i mean, how racist is iceland, if at all? i'm really curious - save for that genetic tidbit - i don't know squat about iceland. well, ok, i know i like bjork and that she isn't blonde.

sometimes i think that i'm actually self taught re: racism, stereotypes and prejudice. because despite growing up in a very diverse, multi-cultural, multi-racial neighborhood in chicago: my family was afraid of black people, the puerto rican neighbors thought the mexican neighbors were low class and dirty. everyone told me polish people couldn't drive - even the polish kids. the korean and the indian neighbors were lumped together as conceited and "foreign" and everyone thought filipinos ate dogs. even when i moved to san francisco, i thought there's no way, i'd encounter any racism there. it's practically all asians. and i was proved wrong. today, i'm still considered, less asian to some, and a race traitor/"coconut" to others. and just because they think that, i'm not saying they're racists either. and somehow, i gathered the bits and pieces for a definiton of what racism/prejudice is to me.

i won't even get started on how those of us with facial differences get treated/are viewed and how that factors into my perspective on prejudice..

but, of course, i don't have a solution or even a compromise - just personal anecdotes, i guess.

i DO know that we'll do our best to teach our children about all their different heritages, especially all the different languages since i still have family in the philippines and my husband's paternal side of the family speaks spanish at home. i know my husband will probably focus on history wheras i will focus on the arts. we want them to travel extensively as well which is an education in itself, changing one's perspective, the resulting culture shock, etc.... i definitely want to volunteer with them too - anywhere and everywhere, doing all sorts of things that challenge us physically, intellectually and emotionally. i want them to get involved with the world, to get engaged, and not just observe. i them to walk many miles in many shoes.

the bottom line is i don't want my children to grow up and become racists/race purists. my hope is that they will be satisfactory human beings - critical thinkers who make realtively sound decisions. that they'll see all "the issues" as the grey shapeless masses that they are instead of just "black" and "white", "right" and "wrong", "bad" or "good", "conservative" or "liberal". honestly, i'm not sure how i'm going to help accomplish this either - probably by example - not that i'm a very good example by any stretch of the imagination.

buena

the second apartment i had in san francisco was on the corner of geary and polk, across the street from a drug rehab, a laundromat and a parking lot. my bedroom windows were also street level to the busiest trannie corner in san francsico, 24-7. a three year relationship had just ended and i was looking forward to a new phase in my life... and i was lonely. i think this was '97 or '98.

i thought i should get a cat and found myself wandering the rooms and cages and aisles at the sf spca.

there was a room that looked empty and before i opened the door, an spca employee mentioned in passing that he didn't think there were any animals in that room. but i went in anyway, i didn't mind checking. i walked around and got to the very last aisle, where i saw two fluffy paws stretching out of the very last cage. so, i walked all the way down and there she was. "reina" was her name. she was an adult cat and looked himalayan mixed with some main coon. she kept stretching her paws out to me through the cage and so i reached out to touch her and immediately wanted to rescue her and take her home.

i found another employee and she told me that this cat was popular that day, that a few people wanted to adopt her but that they couldn't get the cage open. she was waiting for a custodian or a locksmith to break the lock. she said she'd try to open the cage again, but not to get my hopes up. with her first attempt, the lock unlocked and the cage opened. the cat leaped into my arms and crawled around my neck and tried to sit on my head. papers were signed and i boarded a bus with a cardboard box full of fluffy catness.

on the way home, i saw an advertisement for yerba buena gardens and realized i didn't like the name "reina" all that much but "buena" was nice and sounded similar. so from then on, i called her "buena".

she was the most loving and most intuitive cat i've ever known. she was quiet and playful - a juicy, girlie, flirt with big, clear, blue eyes and brown stockings.

buena looked after me through many good days and bad nights, a handful of failed relationships, breakups, health scares, a tattoo, hangovers, fashion do's and don'ts, the laserdisc years, employment lay-offs, swing dancing, a burglary and finally dating and marriage to her arch rivals - the thin man and his young, uppity cat, bailey. she moved five more times with me. our last move together was here to chicago.

before we left the bay area, she was already sick. it turned out she was older than i or the sf spca had originally thought. the veterinarian who looked after her in san francisco was unsure of what was really ailing buena besides old age. her back legs were failing her and she was having trouble missing the litter box. it felt like buena was slowly and painfully breaking off pieces of my heart. everytime i thought, we'd have to bring her to the vet to put her down she'd make a miraculous recovery. her legs would regain their normal strength and her bathroom habits would improve. it was a similar recovery that encouraged me to move her to chicago with us. i took her on a plane with me just in case she couldn't handle the cross country truck trip that the thin man, his dad and bailey were embarking upon.

as soon as we landed, buena took a turn for the worse. i opened the door to our new apartment and tried to make the empty echoing place as comfortable for the two of us as possible. and after a sleepless vigil of two days and two nights, of dragging legs, full bowls of untouched cat food and fresh water, and pristine box of cat litter - i called my brother and asked for help. he picked us up and drove us to the local emergency vet.

we cried all the way there. we cried in the waiting room like all the other owners and their howling pets. everytime, i looked into her eyes, i expected to find fear or pain and found peace and quiet. she often tried to get up and failed. i knew she just wanted to be at home. i felt so conflicted. i wanted to leave. but, i wanted to make sure she wasn't in any pain. i wanted her to be free but i wasn't ready to let her go. finally, the vet leveled with us and assured us that it was better for her to be put down. i hugged her and nodded to the vet. he left and returned and explained the procedure. i held her close and whispered into her ear, "thank you for taking care of me so well and for so long. i'm going to be okay now. you can go. i love you and i'll never never forget you." i looked into her eyes, the vet continued, her pupils got bigger and as the vet listened for her heartbeat he quietly told me that she was gone.

my brother and the vet and the technician left us alone for a little while and i laid her body down on the metal examining bed, my shaky hand stroking her small head, trying to gently shut her eyes. then the technician came back and explained all of our options for burial. shamefully, i asked them to dispose of her remains because we just couldn't afford anything else. but i asked if i could cut some of her hair. she brought back a pair of office scissors and an empty pill vial. i cut a bit from the tips of her ears, and some from her belly and some from her tail. i still have the vial tucked away in my sock drawer.

while my brother drove me back to the new empty apartment, he turned on the radio to break the silence. i rolled the pill vial back and forth in my hands remembering that first day, seeing her paws stretching out of her cage... and this song came on the radio and it reminds me of the night she died every time i hear it:



after looking thru a photo album this afternoon, i realized that that was six years ago tonight.

buena, i miss you terribly. but don't worry about me because i really am doing ok. i really wish you could've met the paloma, the porkchop and the newish cat, stella (she drives bailey CRAY-ZEE!) and i really hope that wherever it is i end up, you'll be there waiting for me.

the other f word.

just an fyi - i have a new post up at filipina moms blog titled, "the other f word".

i scream! you scream! we all scream for ice cream!

just an fyi - i have a new post up at chicago moms blog - "i scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream".

and some quickie honorable mentions:

* the porkchop slept thru the night (last night, first night) on his new bed! WOOT!

* my inlaws are in town for my bils & sils baby shower. so posting will be light. BOO!

* this may be one of the last photos of the kids you'll ever see since some random weirdo favorited and commented on a couple of the paloma's photographs on my flickr acct. BOO! HISS! :'(

home sweet home, pt. 2

i really had a good time hanging out with my friend (also one of my former employers) at the guggenheim. it was really great to see her. the last time i saw her, this past april, she was really unsure of her decision to leave chicago. but, she looks happier now and she has a lovely apartment and her work prospects are very promising. after spending some time with her, i became more and more disappointed that i hadn't made more of an attempt to see more friends of mine now living in nyc... i just knew i'd want to spend more time with them than we had... :(

anyway... after an hour or two, we met up with the thin man back at the steps of metropolitan. it must've been around 4:30. we had to get back to the hotel because i had bought tickets for us to watch the harlem renaissance orchestra which was playing at lincoln center's midsummer night swing. we wanted to freshen up and eat dinner somewhere before dancing.

btw - we still had not eaten anything since breakfast... and we were running on fumes... we took the subway back to times square and made it back to the hotel in one piece but the tell tale signs were there - headache, backache, nausea, exhaustion, seeing spots... i knew that if i didn't eat something soon, that our evening might be ruined.

we barely made it out of the hotel. i was feeling like i was going to faint inside the cab. then, when we finally got to lincoln center, i was upright while we got our tickets at will call. fearing the worst, we stopped into the tgi fridays or bennigans or whatever the chain restaurant is across the street from lincoln center to eat dinner (don't. tell. metrodad). where i ate enough of what they were passing as fish and chips to regain some semblance of myself. by the time, the bill came, i wasn't feeling faint or nauseous anymore. it looked like i was on the road to recovery. yay! :) so, we walked back to lincoln center and after a thorough security search of my (grocery) bag of (two) dance shoes, we were listening and dancing to some fine swing tuneage!

THEN! then, a guy who didn't look familiar to me says, "aren't you *insert mamazilla's real name here*? didn't you teach lindyhop at the doghouse in san francisco with jason?" my mouth just about dropped because that's who i was and am - i was sure this was some weird swing dancing punk'd reality show... he went on to re-introduce himself and said that he had taken lessons with us years and years ago. we had some great catch-up conversations and a great dance afterwards.

AND THEN! then, as i was watching the band and the dancers, i saw another acquaintance/friend of ours from san francisco, mark kapner, founder of swing out new hampshire, doing the same thing! so, i walked over there to say hi and he said, that he was just talking about me to another dancer about a notorious disagreement that occurred between me and some dance teachers at another camp a whiiiiiiile ago. honestly, i can't believe some people are still talking about that... so, we had a laugh and caught up and danced a bit too...finally, it was time to pack it up and go... (in that picture below, see those two HUGE banners in the back of dancers - those dancers were actually moving in slooooooow motion. it was tres kewl.)

all in all, it was a beautiful night and i didn't want it to end and although we were both exhausted, we decided to walk back to the hotel. well, first we walked by the closest duane reade to pick up two more souvenirs - one for the porkchop and the other for the lovely commenter, alice. :) i don't know what we were thinking... maybe it was dancing with each other and listening to the fantastic live music or the hilarious people watching and of course, the special surprise reunions, yada yada yada... the city was totally awake and calling to us to stay up and up and up... :)

the more that i think about our walk back to the hotel and our trip and even the relationship/marriage between the thin man and myself.... the more it reminds me of a quote in this lileks.com post:

"....I expect it’s one thing to be a hard-core spinster who’s forged an individual path from day one and has a hard shell, a gimlet eye, and a perspective on human relations as vaulable as a film critic's assessment of cinema. (He's never slapped a reel o film in a camera, but he knows the difference between Citizen Kane and Porky's IV.) It's different to be be a 60-something who just shed Hubby the Dull and exults in the chance to attend an exhibit on Salvadoran Textiles without the glum red-hot resentment that follows from knowing your husband doesn’t care about Salvadoran textile exhibits, never did, never will, and doesn’t get why you like them. It’s a consequence of the triumph or Romantic Love, I suppose; if you don’t mesh at the elemental level, something’s wrong. The notion of simply inhabiting the same road as you move towards the horizon isn’t enough; you must both be fascinated by the same things. I prefer the model where one person is interested in the flowers that grow by the road, and the other discourses on the history of pavement, and you both speculate on the birds in the boughs above. But that’s just me. (Or rather us.) I’m sure marriages built around interests intensely shared work just as well. It all depends on what you put it into it, to state the obvious. It’s like a fireplace: you can let it go out, or you can add wood. Ahem."

i have to admit i can imagine a life without the thin man ('cause deep down, my roots are morbid and goth like that) but it would be a truly sad, lonely, agonizingly long life.... in the ten years we've known each other, we have foisted a handful of relationship boulders on each other like quarrelling giants. often, we drive each other completely bonkers, attempt murder with eye-rolling and silent treatments (of doom!) and then almost immediately, we raise a tattered white flag, toss each other the antibacterial ointment and the nemo band-aids in an effort to bring things back to "normal".

hopefully, despite our combined neuroses, years (!) from now, when we visit manhattan again, we'll still be walking down that same busy street - he'll be the one continuing the tradition of his bad joke telling tribe and spouting random trivia and i'll be the one soaking in the life and vibrancy of the city, watching a young couple sharing a good night kiss, maybe even a first kiss, under an orange streetlight, as the firetrucks go roaring by.

home sweet home, pt. 1

no, i haven't forgotten that a prize was promised for the most "manhattan" itinerary... nor the promise of pictures and a re-telling of our excellent adventure. :)

alice's intinerary most resembled the one that we envisioned for ourselves. so, if you're still interested in your souvenir, alice, it's waiting for you. however, if alice doesn't contact me by friday, i'm offering it up to samokdaddy, whose itinerary was a very close second.

anyhoo, two random thoughts about the trip before it even started:

* if you have to fly out of midway airport and your gate is A4A - prepare yourself for what may be the l o n g e s t f'ing walk of your life, my friend... get your magazine/potbelly/ben & jerry's fix BEFORE you go to your gate.

* the worst place to have a deja vu is while flying in a plane. from then on, the WHOLE time i'm in the air i'm thinking... does that mean i'm going to die on this flight? as in crash and burn? or are my gourmet pretzels laced with rat poison?

* adults travelling without children have it SOOOOOO good. they should NEVER complain about travelling EVER. DON'T. EVEN. GO. THERE.

so, after an uneventful (albeit delayed) stopover in atlanta, we arrived at la guardia around 11:30 p.m. (friday night). i called a friend of ours who's band was playing in chinatown and let him know that we wouldn't be able to make it. if you live in/visit nyc, make arrangements to check out our friend, george gee, and his band(s), you won't regret it! :)

early the next morning, around the kids normal waking time, i woke up and sat bolt upright realizing that i had forgotten to pack the stroller. (am i whipped or WHAT?) after a minute or two of hearing my eyes blink in the dark, i fell back asleep. i had these delusions of grandeur that we'd be up at the crack of dawn and out the door to devour manhattan. yeah. not so much... we just barely got out of the mansfield around 10am.

although i had asked all y'alls for a "manhattan itinerary" and sought some sage nyc tourist advice & foodie recs from metrodad, we woke up the next morning not really sure what to do or where to go first. there were a handful of things that both of us really wanted to see so we just decided to wing it.

after breakfast, we both liked the idea of getting on a boat and getting a better perspective of the city from the water. we walked to times square to find a subway stop and caught a train downtown.

we decided to stop off near ground zero and take a reluctant look. i was very disappointed to find street vendors hawking 9/11 souvenirs on our short walk there and then, there's this ENORMOUS clearance sign plastered in front of century 21, facing the construction site. honestly, there wasn't much to see, which was kind of a relief, i was really not looking forward to our visit. we walked toward battery park to catch a glimpse of the statue of liberty, ellis island, maybe catch a boat.... we happened to pass by trinity church on our way -

although, the thin man was looking at it for its rich historical background (especially the resting place of alexander hamilton) and it's ageless beauty. i can appreciate those things too. it was really quite peaceful and humbling there. the gravestones were really stunning in their simplicity and honesty about their owners' lives and deaths. but, i have to admit that i was looking at it also for it's cameo in that silly nicholas cage movie, national treasure. (and i was also hoping it had a restroom.)

when we got to battery park, the boat lines looked long and then, we weren't sure how long the boat rides were going to be. so, we just sat there and pigeon/people/nyc landmark watched for a while.

then, we perused our map and started making our way towards chinatown and little italy by way of south street seaport. i got a glance of beautiful brooklyn bridge too. i regret that we didn't have the time to walk across it.


by the time we reached chinatown/little italy it was around 1 p.m. surprisingly, neither of us were really hungry though so we opted for drinks to whet our appetites. i got a delish boba tea from ten ren on mott st. (the only metrodad foodie tip that we got to taste) i just found out we have one here in chicago too! SCORE!

i talked to a friend of mine who was cleaning her newly minted nyc apartment and made tenative plans to meet at the metropolitan in roughly an hour and change. after walking around chinatown, oogling all the bunches of fresh lychee and the fish ball kebobs, we got a pink parasol for the paloma and made our way to little italy where the thin man got a fresh fruit smoothie from a vendor.

we walked thru soho to find a subway back uptown so that we could meet my friend. at this point i realized, i hadn't seen any celebrities yet and then, i noticed a random, double parked, hazards flashing, dark tint windowed, black SUV and then a young thin blonde woman getting into it with a baseball cap and sunglasses. i still don't know who she was but then i realized she and all the other (2) people in soho with caps and sunglasses were probably celebrities too. seriously, do famous people surrender their brains upon instant stardom? i hope they get some kind of brain claim tag and get them back eventually.

and off we zoomed to central park... where we proceeded to get lost. please note that we still had not eaten yet - it's was 2/2:30-ish. we thought we were going in a straight line across the park and then, there was a restroom pit stop... some cool busker music, a crazy old man with dubious directions, sunbathers lying down willy nilly in our path.... it was mayhem! ok, no. not really.

so, i kinda knew that the metropolitan would be immense and impossible to see much of anything in the few hours left that it was open. so, i suggested we try doing something else like the guggenheim, the whitney, the neue gallerie. but, the thin man was determined to enter the metropolitan. so, we split up. he went in there and i met my friend at her apt, which was only two blocks away, and we went to the guggenheim. she just had visitors in town and had visited all the other galleries just a day or two before.

as soon as we got to the guggenheim, i was a little disappointed since there was scaffolding all over it. while we walked up the spiral, i wasn't that excited by what was on exhibit. i think i must have missed a room or something because i didn't see any of the chagalls, degas, picassos. i think i saw one kandinsky. however, there was a GREAT exhibit of italian divisionists called arcadia & anarchy. the "social problems" grouping was especially interesting because of how beautiful the paintings were depicting such sad and depressing subjects like death or urban menial labor. i think i'm so used to "pretty" impressionism at the art institute that it was jarring to see death and suffering in intimate strokes of lavender and pink....

stay tuned for pt. 2 - it gets slightly more interesting. :)

this is what i get...

for following ms. hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy and ms. dictionary...

(this thing is SOOOO broken...)

You're Lolita! by Vladimir Nabokov

Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every way, though you admit that this probably isn't the best and you're not sure what causes this desire. Nonetheless, you've done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real. Please stay away from children.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Harrison Padua Leonardo Memorial Fund

i just read newbie dad's post on rice daddies stating that harrison leonardo has passed away. i feel so devastated and utterly heartbroken... honestly, after reading his parent's farewell letter, i can't stop crying. i can't even imagine what his parents are going through right now.

after i first read and posted about harrison, like newbie dad, i started to read his mother's journal too. the last time i checked, things were going relatively well since he received an umbilical stem cell transplant in april. there were good days and bad days, but it seemed like this was status quo for someone who was battling cancer and that eventually he'd fully recover (and start REALLY annoying his parents). i just can't believe he's gone and that it happened so unexpectedly (for me)... it feels as if it had happened on my watch and i had fallen asleep.

harrison's courageous story inspired me to register myself as a donor via AADP in an effort to try to help him and any other children who were suffering like him. when we got the registration materials, i was so disappointed when i found out i couldn't register the paloma or the pork chop since they were still minors. especially, since their biracial blood type (?) is what they were specifically looking for. if you haven't already registered, please consider doing so and helping someone who desperately needs it.

i looked at harrison's picture and thought how much he looked like a sibling/cousin of our kids. and i know what it's like to be a small child, suffering from an illness in a sterile hospital room - so, i prayed and prayed for him and sent him lots of big invisible love and scintillating wishes on stars. i guess i'll just do the same for his parents and remind myself that he's better now and i'm sure he's in very, very good company.

a memorial fund has been established in harrison's name. donations of any amount can be sent to the following address:

SF Fire Credit Union

C/O Harrison Padua Memorial Fund

3201 California St.

San Francisco, CA 94118

please make checks payable to "Harrison Padua Leonardo Memorial Fund, Account 100314.S1.1"

rest in peace, harrison. mahal kita.

where's lola?

just an fyi - i have a new post up at filipina moms blog titled, "where's lola?"

voldemort married hermione!?

just kidding!!! i did read and finish it yesterday though... gotta say. i was kinda disappointed towards the end - specifically chapter 35. and i'm a pretty big fan of the books and the films. anyone else?

when we were in new york this past weekend, a friend of mine (living in nyc now) was telling me that new yorkers are really good at "staring at people with purpose". i thought about it and realized that no new yorkers were staring at me because they were all reading the new harry potter book - while walking, on the subway, probably while driving, etc...

just an fyi - i'm alive!

the thin man and i had a GREAT TIME in manhattan! :) but we returned home to a sniffling & coughing pork chop (who is still not "talking" and fast approaching his terrible twos) with a newfound habit of eating soap and climbing out of his crib. so, i'm putting out his (and the palomas) towering infernos hourly.

i do have blog posts ruminating a plenty up in my noggin - and some even in draft form!

happy birthday bloggo chicago!

just wanted to say happy birthday to the "hawt" depends porn diva, bloggo chicago, aka barb - who apparently still gets carded for margaritas. *cough* botox *cough*

it's so weird and wonderful how the blogging world brings perfect strangers together only to find how many things "ahem" they have in common. ;)

LOVE YA GRRRRL! MEAN IT! XOXOXOXOX!!! :)

'tis the season to block party...

fa la la la, la la la la....

just an fyi - my most recent post, "tis the season to block party" is up at chicagomomsblog.

not so hypothetical...

you are spending one full day, let's say it's this saturday (7/21/07) , in manhattan with your spouse/significant other sans kids. what is your itinerary for that day? where will you eat? what will you pay to see? where will you shop? what will you buy?

the most "manhattan experience" itinerary will receive a nyc souvenir (i luvs my tchotchkies) from me in the mail. fo' reals peeps! :)

oh how the mighty have fallen....

yesterday, i thought that i (like most women) had a pretty high threshold for pain:

* i went thru numerous surgeries from birth to about 5 years old to "cleave" my cystic hygroma from my neck.

* i got malaria.

* i menstruate.

* i've been waxed.

* i got tattooed in a store front window in broad daylight while reading antique car trader. yes, i was sober.

* i had to pack and re-pack a wound every day for a few weeks. it opened after i had surgery to remove a fibroadenoma from my right boobie.

* i went thru pregnancy, labor, delivery and breastfeeding. twice.

and today? today, i had to pop two advil for a 2mm canker sore that's planted itself on the base of my lower gum.

JAYSUS! DOES IT HURT LIKE A MOFO!

and i mean hurt like a swift kick to the privates, or using sandpaper for tp, or hacking off an appendage and pouring lemon juice on it.... OWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

happy birthday sugarmama!

i just wanted to send my best and brightest birthday wishes to Sugarmama aka MJ who blogs over at i want a little sugar in my bowl and chicagomomsblog. she is also the founder of filipinamoms blog.

maligayang kaarawan! if i could make a big pan of pancit, you know'd i'd be making it for you! :)

readers raising readers...

when the thin man and i first met each other in a swing dance class, we didn't like each other at all. actually, i didn't like him, his conservative politics, his fraternity ties, his sporty red convertible or his smug little "i-know-better-than-thou" smile. apparently, he didn't really think anything of me, my artsy-fartsyness, my red STP jacket, or my pee-wee herman bike.

for some reason, we always ended up at class about 15 minutes early. often, we'd end up practicing our 8 count swingouts with each other. after one too many criticisms on my dancing, i decided to start bringing a book to class so that he would do the polite thing and not disturb my reading or ask me to dance.

i brought the most liberal, feminist, modern, sentimental, paradigm shifting, thought provoking book i had in my library - "the cider house rules" by john irving. i locked up my bike with a smile. i was so sure that he'd leave me alone - FOREVER! and then, soon after i cracked open the book and hid behind it, the thin man walked over and said something like, "hey! i read that book! i liked it a lot! 'good night, you princes of maine, you kings of new england!" and the rest, as they say, is history...

it turned out that among the many things we found we had in common, the thin man and i share a love of books and reading. it's also foremost of the many hobbies that we want to introduce and encourage in our children. so, i'm happy to report, with great pride, that the paloma finished "reading" her 25 books (and drawing her book reports) for the chicago city of big readers program.

in addition to another 5 book prize, she received a nifty t-shirt commemorating her accomplishment, her name was entered into the weekly prize raffle and the BIG, GRAND, U PICK WHICH PRIZE raffle (amongst the choices of a bike, a scooter, a gameboy, an ipod, and a toys r us gift certificate, etc.. the kid chooses to enter the gameboy raffle. oh well.) anyhoo, just in case you were interested, the list of her 25 books (in the order she read them) follows:

1) "chicken and cat" by sara varon

2) "clara caterpillar" by pamela duncan edwards

3) "honk! the story of a prima swanerina" by pamela duncan edwards

4) "emmeline at the circus" by marjorie priceman

5) "apple pie 4th of july" by janet s. wong

6) "abuela" by arthur dorros

7) "tar beach" by faith ringgold

8) "josefina" by jeanette winter

9) "ballerina" by peter sis

10) "ginger" by charlotte voake

11) "ruby and bubbles" by rosie winstead

12) "imagine a day" by sarah thomson

13) "how high can a dinosaur count?" by valorie fisher

14) "imogene's antlers" by david small

15) "buzz" by janet wong

16) "princess chamomile gets her way" by hiawyn oram

17) "alice the fairy" by david shannon

18) "the heart's language" by lois ann yamanaka

19) "this next new year" by janet s wong

20) "who wants a dragon?" by james mayhew

21) "hula lullaby" by erin eittner kono

22) "daisy comes home" - jan brett

23) "big jimmy's kum kau chinese takeout" - ted lewin

24) "dancing in the kitchen" - wendy gelsanliter & frank christian

25) "fortune cookie fortunes" - grace lin (btw - for those of you who like me are fans of grace lin's books. i just found out, in the course of perusing her site and her blog, that her husband, robert, is not doing very well.

she writes in her last post dated 6/26/07, "I'm sorry to say that Robert is not having the results from his treatments that we hoped for and the written word no longer brings me solace. As Robert's body betrays him, so does the consolation of my blog. So for now, during these hard times, I say goodbye--hoping to find hope in silence."

my heart just about snapped in two when i read her words. please keep grace, robert and their family in your thoughts and prayers. he beat the cancer into remission twice before. i hope and pray he does it again.)

how bored ARE they?

my kids are SO bored, they figured out how to make farting noises and yoga poses at the same time.

all by theyselves... 'cause i don't yoga... or feign fart.

what the he**?

so is this really what passes for children's television today? biz "oh snap!" markie and julius the hijacked monkey? i have to look away whenever this trailer plays 'cause i think i'm going to have an epileptic fit.





why can't they just bring back hr pufnstuf, sigmund and the seamonsters and the electric company? WHY!!??

to debut or not to debut

just an fyi - my first post titled, "to debut or not to debut", is up at filipina moms blog.

apple pie 4th of july

recently, i signed the paloma up for the Chicago City of Big Readers program:

"The program is open to all Chicago children age 3 and up. Participating children read, report on books of their choosing and have fun with programs and projects about Chicago. Children get a sticker for their book log for each book read and can win book prizes and earn a City of Big Readers t-shirt by reading books."

i'm not sure if the progam is run differently per library but at our branch, the kids get to choose a "prize" - bubbles, candy, jump ropes, small dolls, yo-yos, etc... - for every five books they read. after reading twenty five books, their names are entered into a large raffle where they may win iPods or bicycles or other random larger prizes...

i rarely find books with any asian characters/stories at our local branch, but for some reason, i'm finding more than usual lately. the majority of the books that the paloma has read have had asian or asian american stories or asian heroes/heroines. it's been really enlightening and empowering and has started some funny and thoughtful conversations between us.

eventually, i'll post the list of 25 books (she's at 21!) that the paloma has "read" (yes, i'm doing the reading, but she's doing the "book report" - a drawing of her favorite part in the book). but, i thought it was an appropriate time to share a book that the paloma just read called "Apple Pie 4th of July" by janet s. wong.

in the story, the young girl is bummed out that her parents have kept their store open on the 4th of july, while other neighboring stores are closed. she's embarassed that they're celebrating it with a *gasp* CHINESE food feast while everyone else is celebrating with apple pie. she says something like, "No one eats chinese food on the fourth of july." she sadly watches a distant parade go by from the store window. she's sure that her friends are watching it from the nearest street curb. to pass the time, she helps her parents by stocking the store with merchandise and helping customers find stuff for their "american" celebrations.

i remember as a child, feeling very foreign, very "unamerican" on the 4th of july, when my family would have a picnic somewhere maybe montrose beach or at a local forest preserve and they'd break out the adobo in the big pot, maybe a red snapper enveloped in foil with the head still on, the rice still in the rice cooker insert, and mangoes or leche flan or biko for dessert.

instead of red white and blue plates and forks, my moms would've brought the corelle and the handful of mismatched utensils we got from the thrift store. instead of a red and white picnic blanket, we'd bring a couple of the assorted and colorful banigs (straw sleeping mats).

it wasn't that i didn't like all of those things, or didn't like bein filipino. but i didn't understand why we couldn't be different, be "american" this one day out of the year... my pre-teen kingdom for just one day of the hot dogs and the jello and the hi-c.

despite some of these initial superficial letdowns, you could always find me completely worn out from all the laughing and running around playing picnic games like egg toss and sack races and pseudo badminton and volleyball. i remember one year, one of my aunts was laughing so hard while playing volleyball, that she peed in her pants. i felt so bad for her, but we were all laughing at something, i forget what, that after someone bought her some new clothes from the nearest kmart, it was pretty much forgotten.

anyhoo.... getting back to the book. after all that familiar sulking and moaning and groaning, the girl is surprised and shocked to find that people are coming into the store to order and pick up chinese food for their celebrations. some of the customers are chinese and some are caucasian. she tells them that there is no more chinese food. that she and her family ate most of it and there's little to none left. but her parents surprise and shock her again with new a fresh batch of chinese dishes that they just prepared. then, after store hours, they head up to the roof to watch fireworks and eat apple pie.

at first, the paloma did not get it... why was she sad? is she american or chinese? why wouldn't you eat chinese food if you were chinese? who doesn't LOVE egg rolls!? it was pretty comical. i tried to explain to her how the young girls' story is a lot like memories of my own childhood. how important it was for me to remember that just because i was brown and filipino, didn't mean i wasn't american, that there is no wrong way or right way to celebrate the 4th of july or any holiday for that matter and that americans (and filipinos and puerto ricans) come in all kinds of shapes, colors and sizes. this book also helped me to segue/re-introduce to her the reality that she is mixed and has more than one heritage. (i'm still SO disappointed that we missed the philippine independence day celebration downtown AND the puerto rican day parade in the humboldt park neighborhood.)

so, if you haven't already, check out the book and the writer's website - she has a TON of books/poetry, visits schools and writer's conferences, she even reads some of her work online too. :)

and have a happy relaxing holiday everybody! we don't have any plans as of yet... i think we might just sleep. 'cause honestly, there's no way we're getting any sleep tonight or the next night... in these parts, they're pretty partial to the M-80s and the cherry bombs... LOTS and LOTS of M-80s.

fire go BOOM!

theatre pink

it was a busy weekend for la diva, the paloma....

first off, we got her dressed in her best "theatre" pink (check out how they spelled "theatre". omg. how elitist can you get? - god forbid it be "carnation" pink or "bubble gum" pink. tsk tsk, our low unplucked brow is showing...) to attend her first "REAL" dance class at a "REAL" dance school. i'd link up the school but i took some photos on the sly... well, not too sly since the teacher was standing in front of me, and the flash kept going off. but they specifically asked that photos not be taken. so, ixnay on the otophay akingtay!

she and her classmates were so cute... under normal circumstances, i am my usual non-traditional self, boo-hooing and bah-humbuging the pink=girl, boy=blue paradigm. but, it was almost primeval. i could feel the overwhelming cuteness factor enveloping me while i watched the graceful whirling and floating brushstrokes o' watercolored pink... ok. i seriously have to listen to some sex pistols or something now...

the class is called creative movement 2 for 4 year olds. it's the class they take before pre-ballet at this particular school. i was so bummed that there were no boys in the class. the pork chop LOVES to dance and i think he'd love to take this class eventually too. he'd look so cute in one of those white shirt, black pant ensembles...

did you hear that? that was all the dads collectively rolling their eyes and their masculinity groaning in severe pain and anguish. oh relax. go pee on something standing up.

they started by doing some stretching. then, they did a lot of character dancing - dance like a bird, dance like a cat, dance like you have ants in your pants... and for the most part, the girls (who (we, the parents agreed ) are apparently a bunch of snarling blood thirsty wolves in sheep's clothing) listened very well. and of course, we were also thinking, don't kill the nice ballet teacher and pianist, girls! you look better in theatre pink than jailhouse orange!

the ballet school is very close to crown fountain in millenium park so, because she managed to delay getting thrown out of ballet class for behavior issues did so well, we thought we'd treat her (and ourselves) to some refreshing splashes in the water.

apparently, while the three of them were splashing around and i was off talking pictures. the paloma got admonished by another parent. the thin man told me later that the paloma splashed a boy with water. then, the boy splashed her back. then, the paloma angrily said something like "hey! don't splash me!" to which the boy's mother responded with something like "IF YOU DON'T WANT TO GET SPLASHED BACK. MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T SPLASH SOMEONE IN THE FIRST PLACE."

although the thin man had no problem with this, i was NOT amused. i get that the mom's problem with the paloma was that she was screaming about her kid splashing her. but, knowing the paloma like i do, it wouldn't surprise me if she had done something like this to a good friend or a cousin or the pork chop. however, i cannot imagine her just splashing another child without provocation. it's just not like her. it bothers me because the mom took her son's side immediately, instead of trying to figure out the whole story and maybe help the children to play together better. the paloma ends up being publicly humiliated and comes away feeling "bad" instead of with a lesson about how (not)to treat people who may or may not become new friends. and really, is it EVER ok to yell at someone else's kid? really? 'cause short of a threat of serious bodily injury to my child, i just wouldn't do that.... and no, it's not a "model minority" thing. it's a "i don't think i'm really helping any situation by yelling at 4 year old" kind of thing...

this reminded me of a conversation i had with another mom about our moms' generation of moms and how we grew up feeling like the the "alleys had eyes". i remember saying a swear word once in the alley (two alleys really) behind my house. i thought i was SO cool. until i got home. where i got a "severe talking to" by my filipino mom, who found out about it thru the mom of a polish kid, who had overheard me say the word while playing in their puerto rican neighbors backyard.

despite all the 70s' "irresponsible" parenting mistakes and horror stories we hear about... sleeping on our tummies, our lead laced environment, all the missing safety restraints, the monkey bars of DOOM, the merry go rounds of NEVER RETURN and the see-saws of DEATH... i dunno... at least, our parents seemed like they were playing on the same team instead of against each other.

lastly, the paloma got to ride her new bike after a visit to jamba juice, a lunch and a restful nap.

i'll never forget my first bike. it was an old, rusted, dented, purple, kid sized schwinn that we got at a garage sale. i got up really early one morning. it was still a little dark. i taught myself to ride it by getting on, pedaling for my life and falling off - over and over and over again. by early evening, my knees and elbows were shredded and bloody. but, i'd figured it out how to ride a bike.

later, my mom bought me a DREAMY bike from another garage sale. it was another schwinn but close to mint condition. it was a glitter sky blue color with a white and silver glitter banana seat. it was heaven.

as you can see, the paloma has the "luxury" of a helmet and training wheels. yea! how i worship ye, oh safety product gods!!! i thought she did pretty well on her maiden voyage. she really never figured out the whole tricycle thing. but, the thin man was complaining about the bad pavements preventing her from really getting the hang of it.

yeah right, babe. you just keep on blaming the pavement. ;) i can't wait until you have to teach her how to drive stick.

WORSHIP THE INSECT OVERLORDS!

just an fyi - i have a new post up at chicagomomsblog called Brood XIII Cicadas - An Enotomophobes Recap.

and btw - i TOUCHED one yesterday! :) YAAAAR!

broken. revisited...

although i've been unhappy for a while living here, i think the genesis of my latest reality check happened when i met a dear longtime friend of mine for lunch a couple of weekends ago.

i hadn't seen her in a while. i knew that she'd moved on from chicago to a bigger and better life in los angeles and i sincerely thought that we'd go to lunch and it (her success as a single woman) really wouldn't bother me... i really thought that i'd come home from lunch and say, "wow. i'm so glad that things have turned out so great for her. and so glad that things have turned out so great for me. and it's so great that i don't really want her life. that i don't regret any decision that i've made."

but then, we went to lunch. we talked. we gossiped. we reminisced. we ate. we shopped. we said goodbye. and then i got home and i could barely stop myself from crying whenever i thought about her. it's not that i regret any decision i've made. but, she has a pretty great life. she travels often - domestically and abroad. she's makes a good living from being a costume designer. she had many a tale to tell. she looked fantastic. and she was as confident as a lioness.

and i was and am jealous. it's weak of me and i hate to admit to it but there it is. i may not regret my choices, but i can wonder what might've been if i'd stuck with costume design or fashion design or writing my book... what happened to my own confidence? when was the last time i was in a position to witness and then recount a good juicy story? where did my own unique fashion sensibilities go? (ha. snort.)

then, last week, one of the few businesses that i supported in our neighborhood, hands on art children's museum, closed for business. the museum was a wonderful place to dream BIG. the paloma celebrated her second birthday there. i'l'l never forget when she gleefully painted with her feet there. we've met some wonderful kindred spirits/families there too. i heard thru the weird neighborhood grapevine that the landlords had raised their rent three times. apparently, they would rather have three empty store fronts than a children's art museum. it's always been abundantly clear that this neighborhood did not think this museum nor the larger world of visual arts were that important. so, on the last day, i went over there to say thanks and goodbye to the executive director and the paloma's teacher... i wrote a short note because i knew i would probably unplug the dam, if i opened my mouth. then, both her teacher and the director read my note and started crying... it was awful. the world just stopped there with the three of us hugging and hiding our tears, trying not to completely lose it in front of the kids. this neighborhood can make anything happen - if you know the right people or if you "fit in".

so besides the insult that is the loss of the museum and the added injury that was the reminder of my lost independence and self, the other things i don't like (in random order) about this neighborhood came floating back to the top:

* my neighbors - like the one who says things like "i'm going to the chinaman's to pick up the cleaning." (btw - the cleaner he's talking about is korean. and no, he doesn't say "i'm going to the mic's for beer.") or the other one who doesn't have any problem using the n word around her children. or the one who didn't think i spoke english (he's african american). the ones in a local "community organization" who got in trouble in the 70s for buying houses in the area because they didn't want the hispanics to move in. (they still call you to complain if you put a for sale sign on your lawn.) or the one who was running for alderman that said, "there are no hispanic or asian issues in our area because there are no hispanics or asians living in our area." or the kids who ask my kids questions like "where were you born?" (no greeting, no salutation, no nothing.)

* very few businesses - there are a handful of really cool businesses this way. and i support them as much as i can. it's the northsider in me. i'm used to walking everywhere and never needing to go further than i have to to get everything i need. in logan square, where i grew up, there was a fully stocked grocery, a drug store, a movie theatre, restaurants, clothing stores, shoe stores, etc... the only thing i remember not having nearby was a bookstore. (we always went downtown to kroch's & brentanos. ) here, i can get most things but for the most part i have to make special trips or order online. for every one kind of retail business we may have in this neighborhood, a north side neighborhood will probably have three more. the north side neighborhoods seem to sustain themselves whereas this neighborhood would rather get in a car and go to neighboring suburbs with their mega malls.

* no restaurants - there are no family friendly restaurants within walking distance. some don't even deliver. i'm trying to learn to cook more meals, but it would be nice to have a nearby restaurant as an option. the thin man almost always has to pick up our ordered meals. don't get me started on the quality of the the two chinese places we have. and we actually have to drive to the suburbs or another neighborhood to get decent mexican food.

looking back now, we were so spoiled when we lived in lincoln square and the south loop. so, if you live there now... DO. NOT. MOVE.

anyway... the kids are rousing and waking from their naps. so i have to cut this short. again.

for those of you who commented and emailed me - i can't thank you enough for coming to the rescue of this distressed damsel... your supportive words and gestures have really meant a lot to me and have gotten me thru... well, A WHOLE NIGHT AND DAY SO FAR! YAY, YOU! :) i really felt like someone heard and understood what i was trying to say and saw where i was coming from and could relate and commiserate... i LOVES all y'all in my blogging posse!

i realized today that it's been especially tough for me lately with all my local (IRL) girlfriends (the 5 or so that i have) who are going thru their own unscheduled dramas - new pregnancies, new babies, new houses, new boyfriends, new jobs, etc... i guess i'm going through some major "sistah withdrawal".

i'm still not sure about the whole job thing... i really don't want to work. i love being a stay at home mom to my kids - most of the time. i just want to feel like i'm the best mom i can be instead of feeling inferior to all the moms who drive. and the bottom line is i just don't want to live here anymore - getting a job really wouldn't change that. a former longtime resident of the neighborhood said to me, "consider yourself a pioneer in the neighborhood. you know what they say about pioneer life? it ain't easy." i'm still processing that one.

there is some good news - i started my new ceramics class last night which was VERY cool... the students were pretty involved in their projects but that's ok, i'm there to learn ceramics. i'll have to post pics of the two trays i built as soon as they're fired up and all pur-tee.... the class only lasts six weeks, but i think i'm going to continue to take night or weekend classes in one interest or another. then, i was asked to contribute to another blog, filipina moms - thanks, MJ! and last but not least, the cicadas should be completely gone by july 4th (HOO-RAH!) which means my self imposed house arrest will be lifted. (seriously, i have been afraid to leave the house for almost six weeks. enotmophobe. long cockroach infested story.)

and today, the paloma had her first day of play camp. i was worried when i left her with her camp counselor who didn't look like he was into ballet or pink stuff or princesses. but, she LOVED it. and then, she high-fived him when we left without any coaxing from me. she'll be attending that three times week. and possibly, kid yoga, once a week.

hopefully, things are turning around... please stick around and i'll keep you posted.

broken.

so. it's finally come to this. i have to find a job.

i hate where we live. i hate it so much that i'm feel like if i don't get out of this area for a certain number of hours everyday i will blow my brains out.

and we can't afford to move - financially, physically, emotinally. this neighborhood is a great place to live and raise children... if you drive. which i don't. and frankly, it's also great if you're caucasian or african american.... if you're anything else, you're a minority and you feel like it - well, i certainly do.

i don't even know why i'm blogging about this... i hate to talk about it. i hate to think about it. i've exhausted all my real life friends and family with it... but it's the only thing that's on my mind and i feel like a weed has implanted itself into and wrapped tighly around my core. i feel trapped. i can't leave. i can't stay.

i hate the idea of going back to work to a job that won't pay me enough to justify my working... a job that will reduce me to a mindless cog in a machine.... i can't think of a job that would fulfill me and pay me enough. i can't think of a job that would pay me enough that would fulfill me.

the thin man said yesterday, "you're just not happy being a mom." he's right. i'm not happy being a mom that i'm not and trying to be someone i'm not EVERYDAY... i want to be the mom i am - an independent city mom who doesn't drive. and i can't. not while living here. my children deserve better than what they're getting from me now... resentment, anger, fear, depression, frustration...

it's hard for me to admit but the reality is someone else will do a better job of caring for my own children than me.

it's been very difficult to blog lately. i find it hard to open up and talk IRL or online... i'm trying to put on a good show, i'm trying really hard to keep it together... to be patient... to see the bright side...

but i feel completely broken.

tough week...

i was desperate for a laugh... here's an oldie but a goodie...

happy friday, everybody!

Down In Front! Passenger Side!

just an fyi - i have a new post up at chicagomomsblog.com called "Down in Front! Passenger Side!"

i'm sorry there's been a blogging lag again - i am still treading water... this being our second week out of school.... trying to re-invent the wheel develop something resembling a schedule... while avoiding cicadas... and staying sane....

i'm hoping to post something special and original for father's day but if i don't get to it:

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!! to my papa, my stepdad and my beloved thin man and all ye o'er hep daddios! xoxoxoxo

chicago filipino events - june 2007

june 9 - bowling tournament at classic bowl, 8530 w waukegan road, morton grove, 847.965.5300

june 10 - philippines independence motorcade @ 5200 n. lakeshore dr, (foster avenue beach ?)

june 10 - philippines independence picnic - labagh woods, foster & cicero

june 10 - (and every 2nd sunday of the month) tagalog mass at st james catholic church

june 12 - 9:00 am, philippines independence day flag raising, daley center, washington @ clark

june 16 - philippine independence week committee gala dinner & ball, hyatt regency o'hare

june 16 - kalayaan dinner, ball and queen coronation, wyndham hotel

june 17 - the songwriter & the songbird musical @ pickwick theatre, 7pm, 5 s. prospect, park ridge, il.

june 30 - appreciation / awards night @ chandler's banquets


* that's a t-shirt above that i bought at cafe press here.

AlterKNITS

i forgot to mention that last week, i had the opportunity to do a knitting workshop with Leigh Radford, author of AlterKNITS and Oneskein, at my wonderful local yarn shop, My Sisters Knits.

i had seen the book numerous times before and loved how imaginative and innovative the projects were. i hadn't ever taken a closer look because the projects seemed to be a little advanced for someone at my level, but i always wanted to try knitting them eventually especially, the crepe paper crown, the paper lanterns and the recycled t-shirt rugs.

so, when i heard that she was coming to do two workshops. i jumped at the chance to meet her and excercise some creative process. it. was. awesome.

in the beginning of the workshop, she showed us samples and works in progress of projects in her books - some examples were made from recycled/felted thrift shop sweaters, shibori felting techniques and unusual kntting materials like fabric strips of silk or t-shirt jersey. she talked about "knitting outside the box" and challenging one's perceptions about knitting and how to knit and what to knit with and why.... she asked us to write down why we didn't feel we were able to complete the "ultimate" project a small post it note. then, she gathered up the notes and threw them in the trash. :) later, she recalled that a former student actually knitted with tulip leaves after taking the workshop...

then, came the hands on portion of the workshop. there were numerous brown paper lunch sacks on the large conference table we were seated around. leigh asked us to pick one out and open it up. inside each of the sacks was some random material that could be knitted. my bag contained some silk fabric strips, other knitters found jersey t-shirt strips, fishing line, tulle, crepe tissue paper, mylar ribbon and audio cassette tape. after casting on and knitting a few rows, we talked about how easy or difficult it was to knit with and possible options for projects or stitches/patterns. then, we picked another bag. my second bag contained fine gauge copper wire, other knitters found pipecleaners, tennis racket line and raw untwisted yarn (i forget what that's called).

afterwards, we did something akin to a writers exquisite corpse. we all cast on about 20 stitches and then picked knitting instructions out of a hat. the exercise was to show how we could come up with interesting organic shapes without guides.

then, we did two exercises re: color theory. in the first exercise, we picked random collages/layouts from magazines and picked yarn butterflies to imitate the color pallettes in the layouts. then, we either culled or added to the pallette. it was interesting to see what colors i was drawn to and also what colors were obviously the primary colors and which were accent colors.

the second exercise was really interesting. we closed our eyes and picked three balls of yarn from a bag. then, leigh provided us with a pretty easy (fair isle sorta) pattern that combined the three yarns... it was really enlightening to see which trios actually looked good together and which didn't. some were obviously going to turn out as good trios, and others... not so much.

i only enrolled in the first workshop (because i had already done shibori work, which was the focus of the following evening's workshop) but after that class i was really disappointed that i hadn't signed up for it.

so, if you're remotely interested in creative process ('cause even as an illustrator and writer, i definitely found myself drawing parallels) i highly recommend that you seek out a workshop with leigh radford. she's so knowledgeable, so accomplished, so open to sharing ideas and techniques and just a lovely, friendly, funny, nice person to meet. you really won't be disappointed.

first day of summer vacation...

it's only 10:30 am and already i want to kill myself. there is NO WAY i will survive until september.... the epitaph on my headstone will read:

"here lies mamazilla, who lost her battle
with glitter glue and googly eyes"

UPDATE: after i wrote this post, i started thinking more about summer vacations past and wrote "what i did on my summer vacation" on chicagomomsblog.com

you know you need a date with your husband when...

...you both are (self) diagnosed with "babysitteri apatheticus".

the thin man and i are getting better and better at pursuing our personal interests and activites outside of the home, parenting and our marriage... soon, he'll be returning to playing volleyball once a week, possibly more. he's also been to a handful of chicago sporting events. he's hoping to golf a little more too. i have been able to attend concerts, speaking engagements, girls nights out and knitting workshops and later this summer, i'll be taking a ceramics class once a week.

however, years ago, when we first met and throughout most of our dating life, the thin man and i would dance at least five nights a week. we met in the fall of 1997 at a lindy hop level 1 dance class at the metronome dance studio in san francisco. among the many things we found we had in common, we also shared a love of lindy hop and music. and since then we've been together, our pendulum in constant swing (no pun intended) between war, restoration and peace.

we used to be able to explain to others and to ourselves that we couldn't go out dancing or to a movie or to pursue any of the interests that ultimately made us the multifaceted people we loved being and fell in love with because the paloma or the pork chop were too young to leave with babysitters.... we used to be able to explain that we couldn't find a babysitter. now, the reality is neither the thin man nor myself is really ready to leave them with sitters, which in this neighborhood are in abundance.

we say we are ready. we are intellectually ready. but, we TOO easily talk ourselves out of calling the neighbors' teenaged daughters or even family members whom we all trust implicitly. it's not logical. we know our neighbors' daughters well enough and they all possess great references. most of our family members have children of their own, the same ages as ours. but, the fear that something unforeseeable might happen, that we might be out too late, that we might not give the sitter enough notice, etc... it's just easier for us to pawn babysitting duty to one another. the sitter is reliable, trustworthy, free, can make dinner, is loved by the kids, doesn't need a ride home, etc... see? babysitteri apatheticus.

we're still talking and talking about taking a weekend trip to new york city. just the two of us. the impetus was one FREE plane ticket that the thin man received during a promotion for an airline. i think he got it a year ago and we're still talking about it. so, maybe we need to take baby steps. maybe winning a $100 amex gift card and $100 cash for a babysitter is just the kick in the pants that we need. 'cause i'm so happy that we're slowly getting to do the things that nuture us as people. but, i really miss doing all the other things that help us cultivate and nurture our relationship as a couple.

This post is part of a Blog Blast sponsored by E-Harmony Marriage, a new online alternative to marriage counseling and Parent Bloggers Network. If you'd like a chance to win a $100 Amex Gift Card for a date out with your spouse/partner plus $100 cash for a babysitter, Click here for more info!